The Last Knight
by harbringer2332
Summary: Long ago the Titans ruled unopposed over the earth. When the Gods defeated them, they too stood as the undisputed masters of the world. But before either Gods or Titans another race claimed that mantle. While long gone from their ancient seats of power, their influence reaches across the millennia. An eternal struggle of ages past will decide the outcome of the battles of today.


_Long, long ago, at the end of the world_

 _Came Order and Chaos- the tale is told_

 _Man not man shattered the sky_

 _Man yet-to-be watched their world die_

 _Amidst the rubble of fallen gods_

 _A soldier-unborn defied the odds_

 _Cursing Fate that he should live_

 _Left with nothing, save his life to give_

Nestled against the base of an enormous mountain rested a city- its delicate towers rose from smooth white-stoned buildings and brushed against the stars.

If an observant being were to gaze upon the city they might realise that every building appeared to be fashioned from the same piece of stone, for neither bricks nor joins between buildings could be seen. They would notice that the flags hung from the towers flew proudly without the benefit of wind. What they would not have been able to see however was the powerful magic emanating from the heart of the city itself; a song of life woven into every particle of rock.

Equidistant from the towering walls, and resting against the mountain, was the Primordial Keep. It soared over the city in a demonstration of ethereal power and beauty. In its courtyards of white and green marble stood massive statues representing the entities of Gaia, Tartarus, Nyx, Hemera and countless others. In the largest courtyard of them all stood the statues of Chaos and Order. They were neither good nor evil, they simply were. Between them they held the fate of the world in a perfect balance.

The statues were protected by the Knights of the Primordial Guard; sworn to protect their gods, these ancient warriors were loyal to the Keep and were responsible for exercising its mandate of maintaining the balance between Order and Chaos.

For countless millennia the Keep stood at the center of the universe.

Rain fell.

The soft pitter-patter of water drops against metal armour and stone filled the air. Pairs of soldiers traced their slow circuits of the city walls. A young Knight-Captain stood in one of the towers, looking out across the vast plains that surrounded the Mountain. He muttered a quick prayer of thanks to the Gods- his watch had been mostly uneventful. More often than not the Night brought forth dangerous creatures. Sometimes these creatures would attack the walls and need to be repulsed.

A Spellmancer stood watch on the ramparts far below him, her long brown robes billowing behind her, as she checked the mystic wards that formed the Keep's first line of defence. While the power of the Primordials was uncontested, some of the more unruly races of this world posed a threat to the small farming communities who tithed to the Keep.

The Knight felt a hand rest on his shoulder pauldron. "Good morning Captain. Is there anything to report?" Sounded a gruff voice in the room behind him. The warrior turned to see his direct superior- Knight-Commander Argoth climbing the tower stairs. The Commander, impressively tall and well built even compared with larger Knights, was the individual responsible for both Chaos' Guard and the wider Primordial Guard as a whole.

"Very little my lord. It has been another quiet Night." The Captain chuckled. "Perhaps we should give thanks to our Lady."

He couldn't see the Commander's expression past his helmet visor, but knowing his mentor the older warrior would be grinning. Long ago they had been brothers, but the significance of such bonds was little when compared with their hundreds of years of shared service. They stood there looking into the Night, side by side.

(Four hours later)

The vast caverns of the great hall were silent. In the center was a ring of motionless Knights garbed in their traditional pitch-black plate armour. The Commander stood in the center of the circle. On his knees before him was a wounded Spellmancer. The brown robe of his trade was stained green and dark crimson with blood. The lone warrior drew a long bastard sword from its sheath on his back. With a single strike he ended the spell caster's life.

The doors crashed open as the young Knight-Captain stormed into the room, flanked by lesser knights and other Spellmancers. Upon seeing the corpse they stopped. The Captain roared, "Traitor! You forsook your oath! For what gain?"

The Commander gestured to his treacherous Knights to attack.

Although shorter than most of his order at a mere six feet, the Captain quickly dispatched the four warriors standing closest to the entrance. The rest of his Knights charged towards those loyal to the Commander.

A warrior attempted to strike a Spellmancer, only to be set alight by white-hot flames. Some of the enemy found themselves unable to lift their swords; some suffocated as the air forcibly left their lungs. Despite the advantage of supporting spell casters the loyal Knights, already weary from battle, were no match for their foe. The magic users fell soon after.

The Captain ducked under a jab aimed at his throat and decapitated his opponent only to see the last of his men fall beside him. He was quickly overpowered and struck in the head. The Commander strode towards him from the center of the room. He looked up at his old mentor. Although his helmet hid his expression, the rage he radiated could be felt by all present. He felt a sharp pain at the base of his skull, and cursed Fate as darkness claimed him.

Outside the great hall was a long corridor. Beyond that corridor was the courtyard of the Primordial Keep. Dead Knights and Spellmancers littered the area as if scattered by the wind, as well as the staircase leading down to the city. Taken by surprise, the soldiers on the walls stood little chance as the enormous gates, built for Gods to walk through, were opened from the inside. Screams could be heard leagues away as infernal creatures of the Night poured through the city.

Great statues of power crumbled, as the Knights sworn to protect them lay scattered at their feet. The sky above tore open as the universe waged war with itself.

Beyond the city limits lightning with enough power to crack continents struck the ocean, generating waves of impossible magnitude that poured into massive fissures in the earth.

In a single great cry the surviving mortals of the world wept as they watched their gods wage war amongst themselves.

(BEGIN CHAPTER 1)

Percy felt a tingle in the nape of his neck. He instinctively leant sideways as a sandwich sailed past him. Grover, who hadn't been paying attention, wasn't as lucky. "Aww man!"

He started to get up, but Grover pulled him back to his seat. "Perce, you're already on Yancy's most wanted list. You know who'll get blamed if anything happens this time."

Grover was Percy's best friend. He suffered from some unusual condition that affected his walking- not that it stopped him from always managing to be first in line when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria. They both attended Yancy Academy, a school for the juvenile delinquents of overly wealthy parents. Nancy Bobfit, seated three rows behind them, was the individual responsible for the edible projectile. Even on her best days the kleptomaniac redhead and class bully usually targeted one of the pair. She knew that Grover was unlikely to retaliate and that Percy was under threat of death by after hours suspension if anything noteworthy, bad or even mildly amusing happened on this trip.

"I'm going to kill her," Percy mumbled as the Yancy schoolbus trundled down the road towards the museum.

Mr. Brunner led the class off the bus when it stopped. He rode up front in his motorised wheelchair, guiding them past relics of bygone ages. Percy could feel his skin prickle as he looked at some of the exhibits. The teacher gathered them around large stone column twice the height of a person with a big sphinx on the top. Percy shifted restlessly and let his gaze wander around the room.

The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story. "Mr. Jackson," he said, "do you have more important business to attend to? A business meeting perhaps?"

With a tinge of red creeping across his face Percy replied, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner gestured towards one of the pictures on the wall. "Perhaps you'll tell us about this image?"

Looking at the carving Percy felt a flush of relief as he recognised the scene. "Isn't that Kronos eating his kids?"

Mr. Brunner, obviously not satisfied, said nothing.

"Well..." Percy fell silent as he racked his brain trying to remember. "Kronos was the king god, and-"

"God?" Mr. Brunner asked.

"Titan," Percy corrected himself. "And ... he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, uhh, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked Kronos into barfing up his brothers and sisters-"

"Eeew!" exclaimed one of the girls.

"-and so the gods fought the Titans," he continued, "and the gods won." Some snickers from the group.

Behind him, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover muttered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair. At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

Percy thought about his question, and shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Brunner sighed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus- the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Miss Bobfit, could you lead the rest of the class back outside?"

The class drifted off, some of the weaker stomached students looking a little queasy, the rest pushing each other around and carrying on. Grover and Percy were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

Percy had known that was coming. He told Grover to keep going before turning toward Mr. Brunner.

"Sir?" Mr. Brunner had a look that couldn't be ignored- intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and have seen everything. "One day you will have to answer that question," Brunner told me.

"About the Titans?"

"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

Percy riled up, wanting to get angry. With no regard for the fact that he had dyslexia, attention deficit disorder and a complete inability to get above a C- any subject, Brunner seemed to expect him to be as good as or even better than everybody else.

The teacher told Percy to go outside and eat his lunch.

The students milled about on the front steps of the museum, watching armies of pedestrians trudge along Fifth Avenue. Overhead massive, black storm clouds boiled. Percy wandered if global warming was responsible- the weather along the east coast had been unusually violent for several months.

The news had been reporting massive snowstorms, flooding, and wildfires from lightning strikes. He wouldn't have been surprised if a hurricane was blowing in. Nobody else seemed to mind. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobfit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and -of course- everybody except Percy was completely oblivious.

Percy and Grover sat on the edge of the fountain watching the weather change. The colours seemed to dim as shafts of sunlight, which had been streaming through the cloud-cover, slowly winked out.

"Hey G-man, don't you think this is a little weird?" Percy asked, gesturing upwards.

Grover fidgeted nervously and replied, "Yeah Perce, but the weather's been acting up for a while."

The hair on the back of Percy's neck prickled. He turned around and looked towards the museum entrance. Walking down the steps was a tall, but otherwise unremarkable woman. As she came closer he noticed that the crowd of people milling around parted for her, as if repelled, but nobody looked at her. Nancy Bobfit paused her attempt at pickpocketing a tourist to allow the strange woman past, and then shook her head confusedly- as if she couldn't remember stepping away.

"Hey man you should go," Grover said nervously, "like now." He had stood up from the fountain and was standing between Percy and the tall stranger who was now making a beeline straight for them.

Percy stood up too. He looked around and saw Mr. Brunner looking in their direction. He was talking into his mobile phone with a worried expression similar to Grover's on his face. "Grover what's going on-"

"Percy leave, now!"

He blinked and all of a sudden the woman was standing before them. The other boy shoved Percy towards the fountain. His knees hit the rim and he toppled over, the water cushioning his fall. He sat back up in time to see his friend pull out a… _sword?_ He sat there confusedly as he blinked water from his eyes. Regular jeans definitely didn't have pockets that big.

The crowd of people went about their business, apparently not seeing anything out of the ordinary. Percy watched on, rooted in place by shock and growing fear.

Grover leapt at the stranger, who was somehow now clad in dark-gold looking armour. The woman batted Grover's strike away before delivering a lightning fast strike of her own. Percy's friend somehow deflected the blow, but the force of the attack sent the weapon spinning out of his hands. She raised a palm and Grover flew off his feet, head striking the pavement.

The sight of his injured friend spurred Percy to action. He rolled over the rim of the fountain, and as he did a sword came whistling through the empty space where he had been a split second ago. He came to his feet with Grover's blade in hand. He stood awkwardly in front of the attacker, almost not seeing the next strike. Instinctively bringing his sword up he blocked the strike, the force of which sent him reeling back. Percy retreated in panic before a flurry of blows he could not keep track of. A blade flicked across his cheek before gashing his thigh. Percy fell to his knees, his vision greying out at the edges from pain.

He looked up to see the woman's sword arm drawn back and descending fast in a wide looping slash aimed at his neck.

Percy then heard a rustle of fabric, as if somebody was shaking out their coat. The woman staggered backwards as if punched. She narrowed her eyes and snarled.

The ambient noise of the fairly busy area seemed suddenly muted as a man stepped in front of her. All Percy could see of him was his back. He was wearing a black cloak, and appeared unarmed. A not-uncomfortable chill filled the air as he stood there.

The woman stabbed at his chest, but the man stepped sideways and trapped her sword hand between his arm and body. In a fluid movement almost too fast to see he struck her in the throat and violently wrenched her arm at an awkward angle. All of a sudden, now in possession of his opponent's sword, he stepped away and pushed against the air with his hands. The female flew backwards several meters before rolling to a stop. She slowly rose to her feet, with murder written in her eyes. Golden blood traced a line down her face.

"This child is under my protection, godling. Begone and I shall forget this incident."

The woman's eyes widened slightly as her anger was replaced by something else entirely. Ignoring her the cloaked man turned towards Percy.

The injured teenager felt the strength seeping out of him. His vision dimmed as the world spun around him. He slipped into darkness.


End file.
